Mistletoe
by baldragnarok16
Summary: It sometimes takes the acts of others for us to realize that we are not perfect.
1. Pride

_Pride_

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When dealing with people, let us remember we are not dealing with creatures of logic. We are dealing with creatures of emotion, creatures bustling with prejudices and motivated by pride and vanity.

**Dale Carnegie**

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Unlike others, this tale is not about mothers whispering "I love you" to their children and nor is it about two people falling in love on a snowy winter night in the dim light of candles. It is not about getting the present that you have always wanted and laughing with the person who gave it to you, nor is it about staying up late with your friends roasting chestnuts over an open fire.

Because, for Uzumaki Naruto, he had none of these.

He had no mother to tuck him and tell him "I love you" nor did he have a lover to fall in love with on a snowy winter night in the dim light of candles. He did not have anyone he could laugh with and exchange presents with nor did he have friends, or chestnuts, or an open fire.

He had people he could call his acquaintances: Sakura, Kakashi, Tsunade, Shizune, Neji, Lee, Tenten, Jirayia, and the rest of the peers he graduated with.

The only people he had ever considered family were long gone; Sarutobi, the Sandaime Hokage was murdered by his own student, Orochimaru. And the person he considered to be a brother, Uchiha Sasuke, had defected from the village so that he could gain the power he needed to kill his older brother. And it was none other than the serpentine sannin who persuaded him to do so.

He sat curled in a ball in front of the malfunctioning radiator to ward away the coldness that seemed to grip his body no matter how hot it was outside. Maybe it was because the landlord refused to repair the radiator so that it would actually give some warmth to the orphan, or maybe because of the constant draft that blew through the window in his bedroom that would never quite close.

_'This would be the first time,' _he thought to himself as he wrapped the blanket covering him even closer around so that he could hardly move. _'The first Christmas without a present.'_ To anyone this may sound like a selfish thought, but keep in mind that Uzumaki Naruto was only thirteen years old.

The holidays still held a special place in his heart; they were a time of wonder, of happiness, and of family. And every year since he could remember, he would wake up on Christmas morning to find that someone, an anonymous person, left him a present on his dresser drawer. And somehow, it would always be the one thing that he needed the most.

When he was eight and had just entered the academy the mysterious person had given him a year's supply of scrolls and several packs of shuriken. And when he was ten, he had been given several sets of clothes, which he sorely needed, shuriken, and a frog wallet, which he affectionately called "Gama-chan." And then, last year, he had been given the best gift he could think of; a history. He had been giving a documentation of his lineage dating back to his great grandparents, who apparently had been one of the first people to settle in Konoha under the leadership of the Shodaime Hokage. He had never told anyone who his parents were, because, even if he had told them that he was the son of Kazama Arashi and Mitarashi Aisha, he would've been accused of dirtying both the names of Arashi and Aisha, for, at the time Naruto was born Aisha was married with a child of her own, Anko. But what the others didn't know was that Aisha had been secretly having an affair with the Yondaime and was killed not by a falling piece of debris during the Kyūbi attack, but from complications while giving birth.

So in truth, it would be as if Naruto never had any parents at all. He would be a mysterious apparition that found its way to this planet by accident and was forced to live as an outcast, because everyone knew he didn't belong.

And this year he would especially be an apparition; he knew for the past year or two that it was none other than his beloved ojii-san, Sarutobi, who had left gifts for him every Christmas morning. And still he smiled at the young boy, as, every year, he would come into his office and boast about the great gift that the anonymous person gave him. And over time, Naruto began calling this person "my guardian angel." And still Sarutobi would smile at his excitement, despite being thought of as senile by some for his association with the "Demon Child," despite the mounds of paperwork that built on his desk, and despite the fact he had his own family to spend the holidays with.

Naruto slowly lay down onto the floor, it was just too cold to move from his semi-warm spot in front of the radiator to his uninviting, spring ridden bed. And as he slowly lay his eyes shut, he could almost hear Sarutobi asking him what his guardian angel had gotten for Christmas this year.

He could not answer.

A persistent knocking on his apartment door woke him up. He groggily rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and reluctantly stood up and stretched to rid his muscles of the stiffness that plagued him. Irritated at being woken up, he sleepily opened the door and glared at the person who dared to wake him up.

"Neji," greeted Naruto, not bothering to force a smile on his face or keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"Good, you're dressed; get your shoes on and hurry up so we can get going," Neji ordered. Naruto just stood there, giving Neji a blank, irritated stare. "Oh, and merry Christmas."

"What in the name of God are you talking about?" Naruto asked. "First of all, these are my pajamas, and second of all, who the hell made you Hokage?"

"You wear a heavy jacket, gloves, a pair of pants, a pair of socks, and a nightcap to bed?" Neji asked as he lifted an eyebrow.

"I don't have any heat, alright?" answered Naruto reluctantly.

"Then I take it you don't have hot water either?" Neji asked. Naruto shook his head in the negative. "Alright then, get your clothes and follow me; if we're quiet enough we may be able to sneak you into my shower."

"Why the hell do you care if I have a hot shower or a cold one?" Naruto asked. He had only known Neji for around half a year and pretty much decided that they had a mutual hate-hate relationship.

"What, so I'm not allowed to be nice on Christmas?" Neji asked.

"God I swear if you're trying to trick me Neji I'm going to kill you," threatened Naruto as he left Neji at the door to look for some suitable winter clothes. And, like any other day, there were only two choices for him to choose besides the one he had on: ugly orange tracksuit or ugly orange track suit. It was such a hard choice for Naruto, in fact, that it took him the entirety of five seconds to choose.

"Alright, let's go," Neji said as he walked away from Naruto, trusting that he would follow, but he didn't.

"Okay, what's going on here? Is this some sort of twisted revenge for me beating your ass in the Chūnin Exams or just some joke you thought would be fun to pull on the failure to get some laughs?" demanded Naruto.

"I'm not a man who does not give his dues," answered Neji, not allowing the hurt or anger he felt show through. "To get to my room, climb the olive tree on the side of the Branch House and then go through the window with the open curtains on the middle floor; it's not hard to miss. I have no time today to just stand here and have my personal motives questioned by you; I have my own plans for today," explained Neji as he continued walking away from the disgruntled boy, tracking the slightest traces of snow.

Naruto merely stood there, watching the other boy leave. He bowed his head forward slightly and clenched his fists at his sides as tears began to well up in his eyes.

Was he truly capable of being so blind? Couldn't he see that he wanted to say yes; to say yes and maybe cry for joy? Could he see that he truly did not want to act so shamefully?

Christmas is the one day you're supposed to be thankful for what you have and to do only good; but this was near impossible for one Uzumaki Naruto.

Because for him, all he had was his pride, and it gripped him like a parasite, slowly sucking him dry and leaving him to bleed.


	2. Wrath

_Wrath_

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We hate some persons because we do not know them; and we will not know them because we hate them.

**Charles Caleb Colton **

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Now, unlike Naruto she had everything, well, almost everything. She had a mother to tuck her into bed and whisper "I love you" and she did have a person to fall in love on a snowy winter night. She had a family to exchange presents with, laugh with, and to roast chestnuts over an open fire with. But she did have one thing in common with Naruto.

Haruno Sakura had no friends.

Sure she had other girls her age to talk to, but she never really tried to forge anything deeper than an acquaintanceship with them. Sure there were times that she wished she had a best friend to talk to when everything snowballed, or that she had someone to sympathize with and comfort, but most of the times she was perfectly fine being alone.

At one point in time she had a best friend, and they were inseparable. Through thick or thin there they'd be; whether it was at school or on the playground it was a rarity to see the two separated. But then, one day, everything changed; they had discovered that their friendship was built upon air. They both developed a crush on the same boy, Uchiha Sasuke, and because of it their friendship had been destroyed, and now the two were fierce rivals, competing every day for the stoic boy's heart.

But now their Sasuke-kun was gone; he had left them in the dust so that he could acquire power. Even though he was gone, however, the two had not even tried to repair their friendship. They had become friend**ly** with each other, but that was the extent of it.

And, to be honest, Sakura was afraid to have another friend.

She was afraid that, if she were to have a friend and have fun like when she was a kid she would be punished in some way or another for being happy in such a screwed up world.

She was afraid of betrayal; afraid of denial.

But most of all, she was afraid of herself; of her own selfishness consuming her and ultimately destroying her. And so, she never asked for anything. She would buy everything materialistic with her own funds; weapons, clothes, jewelry, and make-up, among other things.

But despite her fears, she acted as if appearance was everything; as if the first thing she thought of in the morning was how she should do her hair or what she was going to wear that day.

That's why she was having this party on Christmas morning; not because she wanted to, but because she wanted everyone to think that she did. Some people may call her a fake or a poser, but what do they know really?

What does anyone know about Haruno Sakura?

This was the question that kept popping up in her head as she was decorating her house for the Christmas party. She painstakingly began to hang lights from the ceiling of her kitchen when someone knocked on the door. Sakura sighed as she stepped down from the stepladder she stood on to answer the door when she heard the door being opened. She then began to climb back up the ladder when her mother called her.

"Sakura, someone's at the door," her mother called. Sakura, now more than slightly annoyed, once again stepped down from the stepladder and walked to the door, and passed her mother on the way.

"He's cute, maybe you should actually give this one a chance," her mother whispered as she walked by. Sakura's expression hardened at her mother's words. She loved her mother, but she **knew** that Sasuke leaving still haunted her.

He may have been a coldhearted bastard, but she was the first person that Sakura ever loved besides her parents. And she was determined that, just like everyone else who had visited her that day, she would not let him into her heart. She was Sasuke's, and only Sasuke's.

"Sakura-chan; merry Christmas!" loudly proclaimed the "cute" boy at her doorstep. It had been none other than Uzumaki Naruto, the victim of his own pride, standing there in the snow, his arms extended out towards her with a present settled nicely in between his two frost bitten hands and a wide, goofy smile plastered on his face.

Sakura said nothing to the blond and gazed blankly at the small present wrapped in green and red crepe paper with a pink ribbon tied around it.

"What do you want Naruto?" Sakura deadpanned; an agitated look on her face.

"Nothing Sakura-chan; I just came to wish you a merry Christmas and give you this!" he answered, pushing his hands forward in emphasis.

"Just go home Naruto; no matter how many times you ask I'm not going out with you," Sakura blandly commanded. She no longer cared about how badly Naruto was hurt by her words. All she wanted was for him to be out of her life.

"But…Sakura-chan…I…" Naruto retorted. But he was soon cut off as Sakura slammed the door in his face, leaving him outside with her present.

She turned around on a heel and began to return to the kitchen, but stopped as she heard a voice from behind her.

"So is that how you treat your friends Sakura? Like garbage, like inferior beings?" asked a high pitched voice behind her. Sakura did not even turn around to face the speaker as she answered.

"He's not my friend," retorted Sakura.

"Why, Sakura? Why don't you consider him to be a friend?" the voice asked again.

"Because he's annoying and won't stop asking me to go out," Sakura answered angrily.

"Aren't you forgetting something Sakura? That he always hated your precious _Sasuke-kun_?" sneered the voice.

Sakura had no answer.

"You're just like him Sakura; you refuse to even acknowledge his existence despite how desperately he tries. Is it truly that hard?"

"Yeah, to tell you the truth it is," Sakura snapped. "Just imagine how annoying he would be if I actually tried becoming friends with him if he's like this now?"

"Does he sound familiar?" the voice asked. "He and you are one in the same, whether you like it or not Sakura."

"We are not the same! We're completely different; he's an annoying pain while I'm…I'm…" Sakura angrily retorted.

"Not? Why do you reject him Sakura? Haven't you always wanted a frined?" asked the voice.

"**Shut up!**" shouted Sakura as she spun around to face the owner of a voice. She was not surprised to see who it was that she was talking to; they had been chatting frequently over the past few years and it somehow always ended up with Sakura acting angry. In fact, they talked so much that Sakura knew her as well as she knew herself.

And this person she was talking to was none other than herself; albeit an eight year old version. All of the guilt, all of the naivety, all of the childish innocence wrapped up in one convenient package that seemed to pop up every time that Sakura did something incorrectly or maliciously.

"You know I'm right, though, Sakura. So why deny it?" asked the younger Sakura, smiling sagely. Sakura, fed up with the conversation, turned back around and stomped back into the kitchen to finish hanging lights and pull the gingerbread cookies from the oven.

_'What does she know anyway?'_ thought Sakura grumpily as she munched on a cookie.

_'More than you do, obviously,' _came the silent answer.

-Wrath: the Sixth Deadly Sin-

Sakura reluctantly rubbed the sleep from her eyes as the rays of sun peeked in through her window.

_'Merry Christmas,' _she thought to herself as she threw the covers off her and got out of bed. She yawned loudly and stretched out her arms as she walked out of her room and into the decorated kitchen, where she would cook breakfast in bed for her parents, just like every year for the past four years. But as she walked to the kitchen table to pour herself a cold bowl of cereal, she saw a parcel with a note attached to it.

_Sakura,_

_I found this outside when I was coming in from a mission last night. It's addressed to you and it was just laying there outside on the front step! It's silly how some people think right? To think that someone would be too scared to approach you with a gift and tidings of a merry Christmas; it's sill, don't you think?_

_Merry Christmas Sakura,_

_Otou-san_

And there it was, Naruto's present, just sitting there on the kitchen table; **her **kitchen table, as if it belonged there.

It was then that all of Sakura's anger reached to a boiling point: anger at herself, anger at Naruto, anger at Sasuke, anger at Kakashi, anger at Ino, anger at being a ninja, anger at love.

She picked up the nicely wrapped present and sent it hurling across the room. A loud thump emanated as the box ricocheted off the wall and on to the floor.

Haruno Sakura wouldn't find out what her teammate had actually given her until years lataer, because, like so many others, she let her own emotions and ambitions run her body. She was a servant to her own her own wrath, which played her as a puppeteer would play a marionette.

She answered its beck and call in return for shelter from her own sickness.


	3. Greed

**Chapter 3: Greed**

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Greed is a fat demon with a small mouth and whatever you feed it is never enough.

**-**Janwillem van de Wetering:

**----**

Some people call him perfect; he was the top student in his class, a member of one of the most prominent clans in Konoha and, by some, he was a considered a martyr. This was due to the fact that he gave up all his status, friends, and property to destroy the scourge that plagued Konoha. Or at least, this is what some citizens of Konoha thought. But like with he who is plagued by pride and he who is possessed with envy, they were dead wrong.

He did not leave Konoha to destroy Naruto in mind, body, and spirit; that was merely a byproduct of his decision. Uchiha Sasuke had left Konohagakure no Sato to discover who he truly was; whether he really was the god that all of his peers and elders made him out to be, or whether he was just in the shadow of his brother.

And by no means was Sasuke perfect. He would constantly berate himself whenever he made a mistake or was unable to accomplish a task and would obsess over completing it. And then, once he did finish the job, he would immediately move on to the next task without acknowledging his hard work.

And no matter how hard or often he tried, he could never wash the blood off of his right hand. It still stains him even to this day, a perfect spiral etched into the back of his hand to remind him of the deed had done. There was never a day that he stopped regretting abandoning the boy who had eventually become his brother and the girl who put all of her faith into him. He still remembers the look on both of their faces when he left them, cold and unmoving. Even when he's asleep, their faces haunt his dreams, specters that only he could see, the whispers only he could hear, the pallid skin only he could touch.

They would've driven just about anyone to the point of insanity; but Uchiha Sasuke was not just about anyone.

He was the next vessel for the sannin Orochimaru and was also his apprentice, he held within him a power so malicious and vile that even the Kyūbi no Yoko feared it, he possessed the contract of Manda, the boss of serpentine summons, and he held within his heart a fierce determination to prove his worth.

To prove that he was not just "Uchiha Itachi's brother or the "Uchiha Prodigy;" to prove that Uchiha Sasuke could fight alone and come out the victor, whatever the odds may be.

And this determination showed; during the few months that Sasuke had been living in Oto he had learned an exponential amount of knowledge pertaining to jutsu, weaponry and its usage, geography, survival, and tactics.

In fact, even though it was snowing outside on Christmas Eve, Sasuke was preparing to spar with one of the Oto chūnin who was assigned to be his servant and sparring partner.

"Sasuke-sama, are you ready?" she asked formally, standing stiffly at attention, staring almost mindlessly at the Uchiha, who was facing away from her, staring up at the sky.

"It's beautiful, don't you think, Azusa?" Sasuke asked, still not turning to face his servant.

"Hai, Sasuke-sama; the snow is very beautiful," Azusa concurred. The two then stood in silence for several minutes, merely observing the scenery.

"Azusa, I don't feel like sparring right now. Go home," Sasuke ordered flatly, still facing in the same direction.

"Thank you very much, Sasuke-sama," Azusa said as she bowed deeply and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

"Are you enjoying yourselves?" Sasuke asked to the wind. "Are you happy? Are you smiling? Are you laughing back home…without me?"

Sasuke had never felt homesick before, because, simply, he did not have a home to be sick for. His house was more of a ghostly reminder of his past life, before Itachi betrayed them all, and the village seemed nothing more than the chains binding him to weakness.

But now, more than ever before in his life, he wanted to be in Konoha. He wanted to be there to watch his teammates smile, to watch them laugh, to watch them enjoy themselves.

He wanted to show them that he could rise above his given names to show that Uchiha Sasuke was not just a face, or a name. No, he would show them, he would show them all, even his brother, that he was his own self, not the Uchiha heir nor the Uchiha prodigy.

But more than anything, he wanted to spend Christmas at home, with his friends.

"But I can't, now can I?" Sasuke asked himself as he looked up to the clouds spewing the white specks of frozen water onto the Earth. "I can't go back yet, not until I can show them that I didn't leave for nothing."

_'Naruto…I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I had to leave you like that; but you'll see. You'll see that it was worth it. Just you wait…' _he thought as he unsheated the sword at his side.

He then began going through several kata, progressively speeding up and increasing the complexity of his motions. Soon enough, he was but a blur, his strokes barely visible as they seemingly cut the air in two, generating a loud whistling sound on every other stroke.

After several minutes of this, he ended the movements with a single, powerful thrust into the nearby practice dummy's throat, impaling it.

_"You lose again, dobe," Sasuke declared as he knelt on the other genin's back, a kunai to his throat. Their spar had been one of the quickest yet, it had only taken ten minutes for Sasuke to pin Naruto. _

_"Don't count me out yet, teme," Naruto warned as he disappeared into a puff of smoke._

_"Shit; kage bunshin!" Sasuke cursed. He quickly turned around, just in time for him to see Naruto's kick aimed at his head. _

Sasuke turned around and put his arms in a block in front of his face, but nothing came; there was only the snow and the wind. There was no Naruto, no sparring, no blackout when Naruto's foot connected hard with the side of his head.

_'That was a year ago today,' _Sasuke thought. _'I remember what happened next,'_ he thought as he became engulfed in the memories of the past.

_He woke up in the dark with no idea of where he was. He looked over the room, noticing the unnatural looking walls and the plain wooden floorboards. Other than a bedside table with an alarm clock, a dresser, and the bed the room was entirely barren. _

_"What the hell; where am I?" Sasuke groaned as he sat up in the bed, rubbing his head, which was painfully throbbing. _

_'Did he knock me out with that kick? Shimatta; he'll never let me live this down,' he thought as he got out of the bed and walked towards the door, holding his throbbing head. _

_As he swung open the door to the room, his senses were bombarded by a strong smell, causing him to blink several times rapidly. _

_"Oi teme, you're finally up?" someone called from another room. _

_'There's no mistaking that irritating voice; it's the dobe. But why is he here?' he thought as he walked towards where he heard the voice. _

_Soon enough he found himself in a kitchen that had rotting floorboards and wallpaper peeling off the wall. _

_"Where am I dobe; and what are you doing here with me?" Sasuke asked as he approached Naruto, who was standing over an oven, cooking something in a large pot._

_"You're in my house teme; after **I** landed that awesome kick which you never even saw coming you kind of fell unconscious. And, well, bringing you back here just seemed to be the smartest thing to do," Naruto explained as he poured the contents of the pot into a slightly chipped bowl. "Since you're already here and all, teme, do you want some miso ramen?" Naruto offered, holding the bowl out to Sasuke. _

_Reluctantly, Sasuke muttered a "thank you" and sat down at the small table in the middle of the kitchen, waiting for Naruto to sit down. _

_"So dobe how long have I been out for?" Sasuke casually asked as he began eating his ramen._

_"Stop calling me that!" Naruto yelled with his mouth full of ramen and ended up accidentally spitting on Sasuke._

_"Do you have to talk with your mouth full dobe?" Sasuke asked, a wry smile playing out on his face._

_"Stop calling me dobe, teme!" Naruto yelled, spraying even more broth and saliva on Sasuke. _

_"Well maybe I would if you stopped acting like one," Sasuke said, trying to conceal the smile on his face but failing. Naruto couldn't help but smile back, his mouth still full of ramen. _

_And, for the first time since he could remember, Sasuke burst out into laughter._

_'I still don't remember why I thought it was so funny,' _he thought as he sheathed his sword and looked up at the sky. "It's getting late, I should head back to my room; I'll only have so much time to study my scrolls."

As he walked in the newly fallen snow, it crunched under his sandals, a satisfying sound to his ears.

"Only a few more years, Konoha, then I'll return. I can't say how sick I'll be by then, but I'll be back. I promise," he whispered. A song then began playing in his head; one that he hadn't heard for the longest of times. He remembered the words still, and the bittersweet taste of the singer's voice rang in his ears.

At one point, he began speaking the words out loud. The words he felt deep within himself; those forgotten words he once cherished.

"Anata ga omou koto wo sameru koto naku temoto ni tsukamitai no ni. Hito daru bokutachi wa sono kimochi wo wakachi aenai mama. Kotoba ga hanatsu imi wo tatoe no nai omoi wo kotaeru koto no nai kanjou wo. Mitsumeaeba tsutawaru koto ga dekitara ii no ni na," (1) he whispered to himself. The words he could not share with the person he wanted most, the emotions he couldn't share; the ones he buried deep within himself. Yet Naruto had seen them, and conveyed, in his own way, that he knew.

That he knew that Sasuke was not as perfect as he was made out to be, that Sasuke himself knew that.

And most of all, they both knew that Sasuke was greedy.

He kept everything to himself, never sharing them with others, and always sought unnecessary ideals, such as power. But he still refused to let go of the past, refused to let history die.

And so Sasuke was not celebrating Christmas in Konoha, with his friends or his precious person for one reason, and a simple reason for that.

He was greedy, and that greed caused him to lose everything: his friends, his house, his status, his respect, Naruto. It was a slow and deadly poison that had no cure, but he took it in stride, and made the best out of his situation. This being the only way he had survived for so long.

"Nakushita shimatta (2)," he muttered as he opened the door to his room and walked in, not bothering to turn on the lights as he sat down at his desk.

---

Both 1 and 2 were taken from the song "Nakushita Kotoba" by No Regret Life. If you want to hear it there are quite a few videos with it on youtube.

I want to grasp what you thought of the fact in my hands tightly, so they would never subside. We, humans, are yet to be able to share feelings. The meaning that words have, thoughts without examples, and feelings without answers are conveyed just by gazing at each other.

I've lost it.

Thank you for reading and please review!!


	4. Gluttony

Gluttony

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The Flesh endures the storms of the present alone; the mind those of the past and the future as well as the present. Gluttony is the lust of the mind.

-Thomas Hobbes  
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Home is a word that has an infinite amount of definitions; one is the place that you live in. Another is the place where you're accepted by others, and yet another is where your loved ones live. Some, like Wrath, are lucky and have a three in one bundle: a loving family, a warm, comforting house, and a sense of belonging. Then there are those like Greed and Pride, who live in isolation like caged beasts; their houses merely a temporary place of residence until they are able to find a more suitable residence.

Then, there are those like Hyūga Hinata, who, like Wrath and Pride, do not live with the people they love. However, she is a slave to her family, not a caged animal. She will always stay within the corrupt grasps of the Hyūga clan; the curse placed upon her as the first born. She was hated by all of her family, even her beloved sister Hanabi, yet she was forced by her father to take title of Hyūga heir. Normally, this would be fine with anyone. After all, who wouldn't want to be the heir to the most prominent clan in Konoha? Well, Hinata wouldn't, because there's a problem; she doesn't understand.

She doesn't understand why it's her father that controls her future and not her. She can't understand why she can't choose her own husband. She won't understand why her destiny is in the hands of others.

These thoughts ran like cars throughout her head as she stood in front of the body mirror, the Hyūga seamstress, and her grandmother, taking her body measurements. Her old but nimble fingers committed every aspect of her granddaughter's lithe frame to memory; memorizing every curve, every angle, every side.

"Hinata-sama, you look absolutely stunning; just like your kaa-san when she was your age," her grandmother complimented as she recorded the measurements in a notepad.

'Just like…kaa-san,' Hinata thought with a sneer. 'I'm nothing like my mother…my mother was beautiful and fragile, a china doll adored by all. While I'm pudgy and graceless; a disgrace to my family,' she thought somberly as she looked disapprovingly at herself in the mirror.

Would you have guessed she weighed only 95 pounds at thirteen years?

"Hinata-sama, are you alright?" asked the old woman, her forehead crinkled in worry.

"Yes, I'm fine obaa-sama," Hinata answered, rubbing her bare arm with her hand.

She never liked it when her measurements were taken; she always felt more vulnerable when all of her clothes were off. She felt as if she was completely exposed to the world, a freak show for everyone to watch, whether she wanted them to or not. She felt as if every secret buried within her would resurface with the tiniest prod.

"You know, Hinata-sama, that I'm always here if you need to talk; woman to woman," informed the older woman as she clasped a calloused hand on Hinata's shoulder.

"Thank you, obaa-sama," thanked Hinata graciously, shivering. Not only was she uncomfortable, but she was freezing; underwear doesn't exactly repel the cold.

"And you look very thing dear, you should try eating more," suggested her grandmother as she left Hinata in her room.

'No…I can't…I'm already fat,' Hinata thought as she slowly donned her usual outfit: the long pants, fishnet, bodysuit, and padded fur jacket.

To her, her clothes felt more like home than the estate ever did.

---

Hinata wandered around the village, head bowed and hands clasped; her shoes softly crunching in the already trampled snow; a single figure in the mass going about their day to day business. At a glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary about her, but if you got close enough to touch, you'd notice it right away.

Her clothes hung off her and looked several sizes too big.  
Also, if you were to accidentally bump into her, you would not feel the skin; only the bone. The skin seemed to stretch over her body as if to suffocate it.

But almost as soon as she became part of the mass, she was yanked out, an individual once more, a hand wrapped around hers.

"Hey," the guy said, smiling an all too familiar smile. After scrutinizing her more, his eyebrows knitted in worry. "Why do you look so upset; after all, it's Christmas Eve," he asked. "You're not hurt; are you?"

"No Kiba-kun, I'm fine," Hinata answered quietly, blushing at the warmth that emanated from his hand.

"So why are you out here all alone? Shouldn't you be having some dumb ceremony to go to?" Kiba asked, attempting to reach the final step of grabbing her; he had her hand and her attention. But he didn't have her eyes, and to him, that was the most important part to grasp.

"I'm just doing some last minute shopping," she quietly answered, refusing to hand over her precious pearls. Kiba finally gave up and deeply sighed.

'I should've known; after all, why else would she be out alone on Christmas Eve if not for him?' he asked himself.

"Do you know what you're gonna get him?" Kiba inquired, shattering the almost unbearable silence that had fallen on them.

"N-no, not yet," she admitted, blushing even further.

"Then it's settled!" Kiba boisterously exclaimed, pumping his fist into the air and making Hinata reflexively flinch. "I'm coming with you!"

"K-Kiba-kun, you really don't have to..." Hinata began to protest. However Kiba never gave her the chance to finish.

"Stop being difficult Hinata; I'm coming with you like it or not, and then after we can go grab a bite to eat," he interjected, turning back to gaze at the girl who he had come to care so affectionately for.

"Uhm...sure, Kiba-kun; I guess it can't hurt, right?" she asked.

Kiba grinned as he finally grasped the pearls.

'You truly are beautiful, Hinata-chan,' he thought. The blood rush down from his head as he began to think about how beautiful she could truly be.

---

"Thanks, Kiba-kun," Hinata graciously said before taking a bite of a barbecued rib. "You really helped a lot," she added after she swallowed.

"Yeah...sure whatever," Kiba answered spacily. He couldn't believe the amount of food she had ordered; twice as much as his and he outweighed her by at least twenty five pounds. 'How the hell does she eat so much and stay so thin?' he wondered as he violently tore a piece of meat from a bone.

The two ate together in silence; not the kind full of nervousness and trepidation, but with an unknowingness of what to say, or how to say it. And Hinata, obliged to bring up some kind of conversation, brought up te first thing that came to mind.

"Do you think he'll like it?" she asked nervously, playing with her fingers.

"No; not at first at least," Kiba shamefully admitted. "He's so goddamn stubborn; especially with that god forsaken orange tracksuit. Why can't he see he looks like a freaking puffed up orange marshmallow with it on?" he ranted as he attacked another piece of meat.

"I think it makes him look cute," Hinata timidly argued.

"You would think that Naruto would be sexy if he was laying in your bed naked and in a risqué pose," Kiba retorted blandly. Hinata, albeit blushing furiously, did not go down without a fight.

"And you've thought about this Kiba-kun?" Hinata teased, and giggled as it was Kiba's turn to blush and stammer out feeble protests. "I was only joking," she assured.

"You better have been," Kiba growled menacingly. However, the smirk that played out on his face betrayed all of his attempts at hiding his amusement.

It's ironic; the most awkward, simple minded, and, looking back, inconsiderate conversation starters can lead to the friendliest and most captivating conversations. And that's exactly what happened in this case; for the next hour at least the two ate, talked, and laughed; whether it was about the more uplifting issues like their sensei becoming engaged to Sarutobi Asuma, who she had always harbored on, to the more melancholy issues, such as the recent death of the Sandaime, who had been like a grandfather to all of them. However, as written by the great Robert Frost, nothing gold can stay, which includes conversations like this.

"See ya later Hinata; oh, and don't forget to stop by my place tomorrow to pick your gift," he reminded with a large grin.

"Alright, good bye, Kiba-kun," Hinata responded, cutting through a path in the forest, the shadows of the trees hiding her body, which caused the light to cast a glow around her body.

Soon enough she found herself in a quiet clearing; her sanctuary. It was surrounded by tall, strong redwood trees, the sentinels that shielded her from the calloused hands of her father and the sharpened words of her sister. Bluebells, forget-me-nots, and baby's breath littered the grassy meadow. But littered is not quite correct, for their stationary beauty only enhanced the serenity that possessed her sanctuary; a place untouched by time and all of it's vices. A place where there was no such thing as clans or war or ninja; only peace and tranquility. And then, in the dead center was a large, weather beaten rock with a moss skin. It was her mentor; it taught her all there was to know about the world and of how it came to be, because, she believed, it had been there in that clearing long before humans ever existed, the very first thing that God created.

"You, o mighty rock, shall be placed here to teach these foolish humans what the world was like before they existed. Teach them the ways of the world."

And there, in her sanctuary, she collapsed on to her knees and purged herself of her sin, of all of her imperfection.

'It's all for him,' she thought, her throat burning and her stomach flipping over and over. 'It's all so I can make him happy; I need to be perfect so that I can make him happy.'

And she stayed there, hunched over herself, gasping for breath and trying to overcome the dizziness that possessed her.

She has always thought that she could trick the devil by biting the forbidden fruit and spitting it back out; but gluttony is a fool for no one. It merely allows people to believe so before its too late.

Perhaps it was a good thing that her beloved sentinels failed her that one time, and perhaps it was a godsend to be discovered, but the second that clammy, cold, pale hand clasped her shoulder, Hinata could feel nothing but a cold bile of fear rising in her stomach.


End file.
